Page 62 of Isla by Any Other Name

Isla’s wish of having Mitch in their lives was always at the forefront of every waking day. She woke up to memories of him. Her last thoughts before sleep were of him. She hoped that he was recovering and staying safe. God had given her the gift of his survival. She could have lost him that day and never seen him again. Instead, she had the opportunity to help save his life as he had hers all those months ago, and the opportunity to kiss him and hold his hand one more time.

That had to be enough.

Chapter thirty-one

Two Years Later

Mitch sat with his team around the conference table. Curt’s security company had been assigned a new case and they were going over the details. Since his return from Montana, his life had been filled with rehab and memories. One thing was for certain: he was done with putting his life on the line. Curt and he had discussed his role in the agency, and he was now a supervisor. He was at his best planning strategies. So from then on, he had been the one giving orders, instead of working in the field. That was fine with him. He was tired of pushing his luck. Luck tended to run out, so why run?

His secretary opened the door and stuck her head in. “Mitch, call on line two. It’s the FBI, a Dirk Wentworth. I tried calling you, but you weren’t picking up. He says it’s important.”

“Thanks, Kelsey,” said Mitch. To his team, “Give me a minute, guys. Dirk’s an old friend of mine. It must be important if he’s calling me at work.”

He walked into his office for privacy. “Hey Dirk, haven’t heard from you in forever. What can I do for you?”

“Mitch, I just thought you’d want to know, Marcus Hernandez was found dead in his cell yesterday. Someone cut his jugular, bled out right there on the floor. It’s over, man. Hernandez’s reign of terror is over.”

Mitch felt his heart stop for a moment. “You’re sure it’s him, Dirk?”

“No mistaking the rat bastard,” spat Dirk. “It’s him all right. I guess someone wanted control of the prison and took him out. You know how that goes. I just thought you’d want to know. I know how close you and Isla had gotten. She’s safe now. It’s over.”

“Thanks, Dirk,” Mitch said, his head swimming. For someone who planned strategies for a living, he had no idea what this meant for his next move. “I don’t know if you know how much this means to me. Stay in touch. I owe you big time.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” said Dirk. “I just want a happy ending. The US Marshals’ office will probably be notifying Isla within the next few days. She can have her life back. I always liked her, sweet girl.”

Mitch smiled into the phone. “Thanks again, Dirk. Say hi to the gang for me.”

“Will do, Mitch. Good luck.”

Mitch hung up the phone, his mind in a fog. What should he do? What could he do? Hernandez’s death opened up so many doors he’d considered shut forever.

Curt opened the door and walked in. “Everything okay?”

“Curt, it’s over,” Mitch said, laughing out loud. He spun around, knocking a chair over. He felt like he could dance right now or hug anyone who walked in that door. “Marcus Hernandez is dead. Isla’s safe and so is my son. I need to go to them.”

A smile broke out over Curt’s face. “I’ll call the hangar and have the jet fueled and waiting. I wish I could be there when she opens the door and sees your ugly mug. I’m happy for you, man.” He clapped Mitch on the shoulder.

Then an uncomfortable thought hit Mitch. “What if she doesn’t want to see me? It’s been almost two years. She’s probably found someone by now.”

“Isla loved you then and she loves you now,” said Curt. “Besides, Kech keeps you updated, doesn’t he?”

Mitch nodded. He felt a little bad, getting his information from Isla’s best friend and boss without her knowing. “He does. He’s become a good friend and my lifeline to my family. And they are my family, Curt. I don’t think of them any other way. I want to be in their lives and now I can be if she lets me.”

“Get your ass out of here and get on that plane,” Curt ordered. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and placed the call.

Mitch was landing in Billings within hours. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he thought it would explode. But for the first time in almost three years, his heart didn’t ache anymore, the pain that he was constantly rubbing was gone.

Curt had a truck waiting for him when they landed, and he was headed to Hardin. Isla still lived in the little cottage she had rented when she had relocated.

Kech had sent him pictures and updates regularly. Isla didn’t know, of course. It had been between Kech and him. Kech had contacted him when he got back to Virginia, said that Isla had told him the whole story. To keep her and Jesse safe, they had decided to not tell her of their connection.

So Mitch had watched his son grow up through pictures and videos. He was two now and Kech said he was on the move all the time. Mitch couldn’t wait to hold him in his arms.

Mitch pulled up in front of the cottage. Isla’s Camry was parked in the driveway. He parked the truck in front and walked up to the front door. He rang the bell and waited. The thirty seconds between the bell and the doorknob turning were the longest thirty seconds of his life.

Finally, the door opened and Kech stood in the doorway. Mitch nodded to him, with a smile. “Hey Kech, Isla home?”

Kech looked both excited to see him and concerned. “She just ran to the store. Abigail and I are watching the baby. She took my car. Come on in and you can tell me what’s going on.”